He did notice that his hair wouldn't lay down straight, and that the collar of his black undershirt shirt kept drooping down his neck. It was only mildly irritating, at first. He brushed his hair down with his hands, pulled his collar up, and kept reading his paper. His hair kept falling in that weird position regardless, and the back of his shirt wouldn't stay in place either. When had it gotten so loose?

Eventually, it bothered Sanzo enough that he got up and changed his shirt, only to find that the shirt he changed into was doing the same thing. It annoyed him, so he gave up trying to read his paper and went out for a smoke instead.

He's got his back to the wall for now, but anyone who catches a glimpse of the ink on the nape of Sanzo's neck will clearly be able to read the name Cho Hakkai.

[Because the fact that he doesn't know why is bothering the hell out of him, now. He had pretty much pushed the memory down under several layers of protective bitterness, so thanks for dragging that shit up, self.]

The other thing you need to know is that if anyone does anything to piss off the people who run the place, they will get brainwashed. They lose their personality and all of their memories, and believe that they've spent all of their lives in that fucked-up little town, and that they're happy there.

[And it pisses Sanzo off, more than he has words for.]

People like that are called 'drones'. Sometimes, people only stay brainwashed, or 'droned', for a few hours... or it could be days, weeks, or months. Sometimes... they never come back.

When Goku arrived, he wasn't the one I had left in Shangri-La. He was just a tiny little monkey, smaller than he was when I found him in the mountain, and he didn't remember me. In fact, the only person he seemed to recognize was this guy named Tenpou.

[It was weird, being around a Goku who didn't know who Sanzo was. So different than the ones that were here, or the one from home-- the Goku that called his name every five seconds. Sanzo didn't know what to think of it.]